


Mourning Flowers

by SpringWinter



Series: Legacy is Prison [1]
Category: Brave (2012), Frozen (Disney Movies), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: A whole pack of issues let me tell you that, Action/Adventure, Angst, Grief/Mourning, bits and pieces of an overarching story, pls don't expect too much from me I'm a sleep deprived high school student
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:42:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22237990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpringWinter/pseuds/SpringWinter
Summary: "Are you the queen?"He's written it on an old notebook with shaky writing, clearly a gift from Katelynn "generous" heart. She can tell from the hearts and doodles printed on the lined pages."Yes," she says because there really isn't another response.---As the daughter of queen Elsa of Arendelle, it was decided that Jacqueline would be the heir to the throne of their kingdom. She would defeat Pitch Black's army and bring peace to their fractured realms.No one expected it to happen so soon.
Relationships: Anna & Elsa (Disney), Elsa (Disney) & Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)
Series: Legacy is Prison [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600735
Kudos: 2





	1. Snapshot

"Are you the queen?"

He's written it on an old notebook with shaky writing, clearly a gift from Katelynn "generous" heart. She can tell from the hearts and doodles printed on the lined pages.

"Yes," she says because there really isn't another response.

In her mind, she has to admit that the meekness being displayed was not what she had been expecting from the personification of Pitch Black's dreams. She had expected malice, they all had, but this gentle humbleness was a welcome surprise.

She did notice the teen was looking a lot better. New clothes and combed hair can do that to someone, she supposed.

Cronan flinches, looking at her in a sort of curiosity and guarded interest.

"It's nice to meet you."

He writes it after a tentative pause, quirking his mouth up in a hesitant smile. It's a shame Jacqueline can't do the same.

"Yes, of course."

He looks at her with thinly veiled surprise, and the journal is lowered.

"Make yourself at home, Cronan. The others will happily show you around, I'm sure."

She turns and begins to walk away, head held in elegance but eyes shrouded nonetheless. It was an unfortunate feature that she would always possess.

"Weighhhhsssss…"

A hiss makes her turn. Cronan is staring at her with shaken brows and dulled eyes.

A breath, and a hiss.

"Friensssssss…?"

Friendship. What a jest.

"Go. Your cries for companionship from me will only lead you to heartbreak."

He stutters, like an overused engine. His golden eyes glitter in what could be called hurt.

She turns away and disappears, taking her loneliness along with her.

\---

Katelynn is particularly snippy today.

Her report was short, cross and efficient, a word not usually associated with her redheaded cousin. The girl had glowered at her when Jacqueline informed her she would not be available for their routine meeting that afternoon.

Instead of arguing, Jacqueline finishes another batch of paperwork, signing where needed and discarding the half baked laws her citizen's sent in. Then, she drafted substitutes, fixing their issues and doing away with whatever problems they threw at her. She was a faithful queen, or, at least, she tried to be.

A knock is what drives her will to stop, stilling at the prospect of a willing visitor. The door clicks open.

"Who is it?"

There's a hiss, but the door only opens another centimeter. Jacqueline sighs.

"Show yourself, please."

Her voice is unintentionally curt, and she tries to keep it down for her sake. The last thing she wants is to drive another maid to quit her well-paying job at the palace because of Jacqueline's chilled behavior.

The door slowly creaks open, the screech grating one her ears. A tuft of black hair peeks out from behind it, followed by two golden orbs. They peek at her shyly, blinking slowly and reminiscent of a small feline.

"Queeeee?" Whines from behind the door. The two eyes blink again, faster this time, and the face of their newest rescue completes itself with the reveal of a nose, mouth, and chin.

Jacqueline pinches the bridge of her nose, slightly irked. The teen was insistent on following her around for some reason, and she couldn't think of a positive one.

"Cronan. You're supposed to be with the others. Is something amiss?" She says, not unkindly.

The teen looks at her with wide eyes, confusion seeping into them. He finally opens the door completely, revealing a cart with serving dishes and a glass cup with some sort of drink. Jacqueline sighs, suddenly understanding the purpose for her guest.

"Foooaa…"

Food. Of course. She hadn't eaten all day, and it was just now starting to catch up to her.

"Cronan, I appreciate the sentiment, truly, but it is not your job to bring me food. I would have paid the kitchens a visit eventually."

The boy shrinks back at the ice in her tone, but all Jacquelin does is go back to her mountain of paperwork.

The silence stretches, time multiplying slowly, tainting the atmosphere. Cronan just stares at her with a clear look of hurt across his face, while Jaquelin continues to sign papers and throw blasphemous documents into the piled trash bin next to her desk.

Finally, he lets out a hiccup, averting his eyes. Jacquelin pays him no mind, writing an eloquent letter to the King and Queen of Atlantis discussing their treaty agreement. They were due to meet soon, and she didn't want to scare them with her usual security measures.

"Eeaateee…?"

The tip of her pen snaps, spilling ink on her letter. She starts a new one.

Cronan shrinks, then silently brings the tray into the room, next to her desk. Jacqueline ignores him. He sniffs, then leaves.

As soon as the click of the door echoes the room, Jacquelin sets down her pen. She stands noiselessly, a habit ingrained into her very being, and lifts the lid from the plate.

It's lamb. Her favorite.

She stares for a bit, processing. Then swiftly, she rings her bell.

It only takes five minutes, but by that time, the food is already cold. Her presence had a habit of doing that, she supposed. Glenda, a new maid in training comes rushing inside her office, bowing silently.

"Y-your majesty! You c-called?"

Jacqueline observes her. Glenda is young, with brown hair and warm hazel eyes. Her application had suggested a family well below the poverty line.

"Here." She states, gesturing to the cart.

Glenda jumps.

"Oh, you w-want me to discard the meal? But you m-majesty, you barely--"

"No," she sighs, "Take it with you. When you return to your housing."

She sits back down at her desk, picking up her pen and ignoring the way Glenda just stops.

"P-pardon?" She whispers. The girl is looking every bit bewildered Jacquelin wished she didn't.

"I'm not in the mood for a meal, and I don't like seeing resources go to waste, especially food. Take it with you to your family."

The girl only blinks, frozen.

"Think of it as a reward for your hard work, if you're having so much trouble wrapping your head around the idea." Jacqueline finally snaps.

Glenda scrambles, stuttering apologies, but Jacqueline is already gone, disappearing into the mindless drone of politics and paperwork. Glenda takes the meal silently, tears stinging her eyes, and takes it with her back to her home.

\---

“Who are you?” A dead man asks.

Jack Frost may have been gone for fifteen years, but not a single feature from the paintings has been changed. He lays on the bed fragile, however, and his hand gives a twitch every so often, as if reaching for something that isn't there.

“I am Queen Jacqueline of Arendalle.” She says. The boy looks at her, squinting his eyes.

"What happened to Elsa?" He says, confusion curling his brow.

The silence speaks volumes, she thinks. The stark realization creeps slowly into his face, but when it settles, it turns into a face of complete anguish. Jacqueline stares resolutely at the space between his eyes and ignores the thinly veiled guilt the expression brings her. She had no part in her parents passing, she knows not why she is so upset.

“How long has it been?” he whispers hoarsely.

“Fifteen years.” Katelynn says gently behind her. The crew has been waiting for him to wake up, and if the rest of the Guardians hadn't been confined to their resting rooms, she's certain they would be there, sitting diligently on Jack Frost's bedside. She watches the spirits face fall, a mixture of confusion and despair taking him over that leaves everyone in the room silent.

"And… and everyone else?" He asks.

"The rest of your group have settled back at their respective kingdoms and reclaimed their previous titles. Everyone in this room is a son or daughter of one of them." She steps up to the plate. Her voice is as chauff as always, calculated and soft, but Frost has no open reaction to it. Instead, he seems to be looking at her with a developing sort of sorrow, eyebrows creasing and blue, young eyes widening in grief.

"...Hans?" The final question. Perhaps the spirit was more observant than he seemed.

"My father died an unfortunate death in the resulting battles after Pitch Black's defeat." She says robotically, posture stiff. Behind her, she can feel her allies jerk slightly at the open statement. Jacqueline hopes they don't asks any further; Jack Frost deserved to know what had happened to his past companions, but she had no intention of making her past common knowledge.

The boyish guardian looks stricken. He looks away.

"I think… I need some time." He finally says, defeated and quiet.

Jacqueline is the first to leave.

\---

When Jacqueline is crowned queen, the people rejoice. It's the end of a rebellion, and causes the quelling of riots, deaths, and demands, bringing peace to a warring country. With the placement of a gold crown on top of her head, the heat of resistance is silenced. The people have gotten what they've yearned for.

Jacqueline is nervous, of course. Queenhood is not easy, and it's duties are not kind to her, but she's been training her whole life. She adjusts, adapts, and begins to realize what is good and bad, weeds out the parts of herself that cannot run a kingdom.

But there is a single spark that had opposed the coronation of princess Jacqueline of Arendelle, and it had been her cousin, Katelynn, who had never before agreed so strongly that her mother was the one who deserved to rule. Her cousins watches from afar as gold is gilded upon Jacqueline's head, adorning her pale hair.

And slowly, Katelynn starts to drift away. A seed of hate roots itself into their relationship, and Jacqueline watches as her cousins begins to despise her.

It's the start of her loneliness.

\---

When the guardians first meet Cronan, they mistake him for Pitch Black and almost kill him.

It's a heavy day for everyone. The royal court had been insistent on establishing a stronger military presence as to intimidate their enemies, but Jacqueline wasn't ready to draft children into this battle. She had to believe her quests had meant something.

As for the rest of them, they had all just returned from a failed diplomatic mission. The towns in the south of Rosea were hesitant to offer aid to what they considered Arandelle's battle, and had refused trade relations as well. Katelynn had arrived at the palace with a clear restless spirit, so she had all dismissed them from their usual duties for the day and assigned their usual replacements instead, promising pay for one more day if course.

So when she had gone to fetch Cronan from his chambers to check his recovery for herself, it had been anything but a pleasant surprise to find four out of five giardinas holding the boy hostage.

"What are you doing?" She said simply, boiling rage barely contained in such a short sentence. They all stopped, and Cronan found her face with pleading eyes.

The guardians all stare at her, then each other, then at her again, then finally back to Cronan, who is being held up by the large hands on his shoulders and stilled by the sword at his throat. She glares at them all icily, gaze fixed on the four unruly spirits, and their wide eyes blink back at her. North releases Cronan, and the teen hits the ground with a soft thump.

"He is similar to Pitch?" North tries hesitantly, when her glare doesn't lessen. She releases her grip from the copper handle of the wooden door she is holding and folds her hands on top of one another in a regal gesture.

"Please, my guests," she begins placidly, "If you are going to so shameless trespass on your companions, at least give me a warning next time. That way, I might have enough time for explanations."

North and Tothiana turn tomato red, and Bunnymound's fur rises in shame. Sandy looks at them all from the corner of the room and gives them the most disappointed look she's ever seen. Cronan jumps up and runs to her, crossing the doorway and hiding behind her.

She sighs. This day just got better and better.

"Come with me and I'll explain." She finally says. They all gulp and nod, and she turns away from the doorway. Slowly, she begins leading Cronan down the hall, the boy keeping himself as far away from the guardians as possible.

She settles in one of their open war rooms and sits down at the head of the table. They all follow suit.

"... He looks like Pitch?" North tries again. Her glare finds him languidly, and he flinches.

"Yes. Cronan was born from Pitch Black's dreams. It would make sense he looked like him." She answers tiredly.

They all look at each other. Cronan has settled in the seat at the corner of the room, but he is obviously uncomfortable. Jacqueline turns to him blankly.

"Go, Cronan. Find Katelynn. She should be able to take care of you while I discuss this with the guardians."

He hesitates, but then jumps up and nods. He leaves anxiously, not bothering to try and speak a goodbye, and it's his uncharacteristic silence that ultimately proves to her that he is and probably will be shaken about this for a long time. Damnations, sometimes she wished the guardians would keep their hands to themselves. The more they tried to help, the worse they sometimes made things.

"Cronan was created during Pitch's hibernation. He was made from Pitch Black's hopes and dreams, was completely severed from Pitch, and currently has a shattered soul we are working to recover." She continues monitonely.

The Guardians look a lot more concerned than they should be.

"He's a piece of Pitch Black?" Toothiana says, face creased.

"No. Cronan had his connection to Pitch black severed during his escape. Our medical ward determined he had been something of a familiar to pitch, but when his soul was shattered during his escape, it ironically turned him into a real person. Right now he is currently in recovery."

"But he's still a creation of Pitch. How can ya trust the bugger?" Bunnymund says, tense.

Jacqueline's eyes zero in on him, and her glare intensifies tenfold.

"I am technically a creation of Hans of the Southern Isles. Does that mean I'm a power hungry disgrace?" She snaps, staring head on at Aster's face. He flinches, and next to him, the rest of the guardian's shrink back from her, startled. Sandman, who had been looking more and more offended on her behalf, is looking back at her with a sympathetic, hesitant kind of look, rolls of sand swirling around over his head.

"Of course not, your majesty." North looks thoroughly chastised.

Jacqueline looks away from them, to the closed doorway of the room they are inhabiting. She looks… sad.

"Cronan may not have had humble beginnings, but he is good. He is a child, like the rest of my allies, and would do you well to treat him a such. You are the Guardians of Childhood, after all."

They nod, quietly, shame permeating the air and rolling off all of them in waves.

\---

"What did you do to her?" She hears Katelynn demand. Her voice is far away.

"The queen is grieving." Says the priestess, resting her cold, smooth hand on her shoulder. Jacqueline barely feels it through the flurry of tears, and she can't find enough effort in her watery limbs to care.

"For what?" Eliana's gentle voice asks.

"Her parents." Whispers the woman looming over her.

Jacqueline lowers her head and watches the frost on the grass grow.


	2. Chapter 2

She is hesitant whenever she is called to leave her kingdom. Arendelle is her home, and she is responsible for its flourishment, but allies need to be kept satisfied. A meeting of like mind is called, and she is required to attend.

Nevertheless, it is a simple one in concept, she is told. It will take two weeks by boat at most, and it was over the union of a new country. Her allies were hesitant to allow a newly discovered kingdom to the west of Skymen into their tightly knit group and we're requesting Queen Jacqueline's council. At least queen Rapunzel would also be attending. It was always nice to see a familiar face.

The voyage is heavy, but it's mostly spent in her quarters. Jacqueline has left her aunt in charge of the country in her absence, and the peppy woman had promised to keep her influence to a minimum so as to not upset her citizens. She'd taken a small group of guards with her, as well as a recently recruited one; the boy was young but had an insatiable curiosity, so she'd taken him with her. Romanicia was an immense, culturally rich country, after all. It would do him some good to explore.

The news of their arrival is accompanied by Kai's joyous face, the previously mentioned boy. He barely manages to hide his grin behind his soldiers' uniform, and Jacqueline allows him a small rest so he can explore as long as he's back to the ship at nightfall. He leaves with happiness chasing his heels.

Unfortunately, Jacqueline isn't so lucky. When she arrives at the alliance's meeting room, chaos reigns in every corner of the grand room. It looks like queen Merida had been invited after all, along with Corona's brunet queen, and both of them have taken a stance side by side to each other. The king of Cobort and the prince of Spneo had both migrated to the other side of the room, and the matriarch of Romanicia is standing to the side, lips pressed tight into a thin line. Representatives from the Hairy Hooligan Tribe stand near the corner, stone-faced, but in the end, it isn't them that she is focused so intently on.

Instead, it's on their presumed new ally.

They sit on a cold ivory seat, with gold embroidered clothing and silver chains. The guards behind him snap towards her face, and when they see her thin, young frame, their eyes widen in surprise.

The king of Greenwich turns to her, and his face is anything but pleased at the sight of Queen Jacqueline of Arendelle.

"Good morning, allies. I see you've begun without me." She sighs, folding her hands together. She steps into the room with her characteristic regal grace and everyone bows, curtsying respectfully, but shortly. Their newest companion scoffs at the sight.

"Is this the Queen you've all been insisting I wait for? She's nothing but a young child!" The kind exclaims, face turning red with frustration. His plump figure shakes with the effort it takes to hold himself up in his chair, and his hat covers his eyes briefly before he straightens it with little fanfare.

Jacqueline is anything but impressed, either.

"Yer Majesty, we began with light trading arrangements. You've fortunately not missed much." Says one of the Vikings from the back of the room, looking at the snotish king with a cold, dead expression. She sighs, nodding.

"It is good that I haven't missed much, then, is it not?" She says as she walks to her place at the head of the table. First things first: establish a hierarchy. The king of Greenwich was an outsider, if he so insistently wanted to make it known, then she would allow it to be made known.

She sits down silently, and two of her guards go to stand behind her chair. The rest stay outside and guard the doors. Slowly, the rest of the present royalty sits on the table, order unimportant, but seemingly organized. The king is immediately tense, and he seems to be analyzing her more closely, now. 

"Now, your highness, I was informed by the letter that was sent to me that you would like to establish an alliance with the eastern kingdoms, according to you?" She begins placidly.

The king's nose is immediately in the air, like a spoiled child. The floor of the room is frosting from her obvious disgust, but she keeps her face impassive and cold.

"Yes. My adventurers discovered the kingdom of Corona while on a gold expedition, and from there deduced that there must be more kingdoms to the east. My advisors told me to make an alliance with you." He says haughtily.

Jacqueline stares at him as if looking at him from a different angle will wipe the man's arrogance off his face. It doesn't.

"Your advisors?" She asks. It sounded as if the man wasn't exactly here of his own accord.

"Yes. They thought it wise to make peace with your lot and avoid another war as if the mere thought of spending a bit of gold is unreasonable!" He whined.

Jacqueline looked around to the various kings and queens sitting at the table. They all looked back pleadingly, eyes wide in hysteria. The Vikings at the end of the table were both trying to inch away from the king, though the man himself barely seemed to notice.

"What's your name again?" She finally says tiredly, facade falling off a cliff. She doesn't even care anymore, the king wasn't even bothering to be polite in return.

The king's eyes widen. He looks furious. There's a small silence as the overweight man stews.

Then finally, "King Henry the Eight! Are you so cull as to not bother memorizing my title!?"

God, there had been eight more before him? How was his kingdom still standing? There's no point in playing nice anymore. Her allies stay silent, waiting for her to speak, and she raises her head to stare straight at the unruly king. He still looks angry, but he freezes at the sight of her expression.

"You want an alliance? Tell me what you have to offer."

The king gapes for a moment, then clicks his mouth shut.

"My explorers have found large amounts of gold to the west of my country. I would be happy to trade some with you if you've got anything of equal value." He says, and his smile widens as if the mere thought of gold will have them throwing themselves at his feet.

"And what would we need gold for!?" Queen Merida exclaims, twisting as to unknowingly intimidate the opposing royalty with her bow and arrows. The guards tense.

The kind gapes again, except this time it lasts longer.

"Gold? Ya can't use gold for swords." The Viking with horns on his helmet tsks. 

"And gold won't win us our war, will it?" Queen Rapunzel states, sighing. It looked like she was as disappointed with the offer as the rest of them. The king still hadn't moved. He was staring at them with eyes similar to an insect, fat and popping out of his face.

"Do you have anything else to offer?" Jacqueline asks, and the king's eyes snap to her.

"But-- but gold is richness! Your crowns are made of it!" He exclaims.

"Gold's unly used f'r ceremonies, what else would'a be used for!?" The queen of DunBroch explains her wild hair bouncing with her sharp movements.

"She means Coronations." Says Jacqueline. They all knew gold as a status symbol and nothing more, an adornment signaling the leader of a country. The wealthy showed status with gold necklaces and perhaps a few earrings, but nothing more. Gold was primarily used in Corona, where sorcerers used it for its surprisingly powerful healing properties. The gold wasn't destroyed during casting, just diminished and in need of a cool-down period. It was hardly valuable to them if they had enough of it, which they did.

"Perhaps gold is valuable in your world, but it's not in ours. We have enough of it." The queen of Romanicia states, stance firm and face looking more and more lost. 

The king's cheeks puff out in embarrassment and shock.

"W-well, what about silver!? The Spanish found a mountain of it recently, surely--"

"Spanish?" A Viking asks.

"A country in your world, perhaps?" The prince of Spneo asks Merida. She nods.

"Aye, the Spaniards 'r a gold obsessed lot that attempted 'n alliance few y' rs back. It didn't go well." She scoffs.

"And you know them," Jacqueline says to King Henry blankly.

"I-- we're trading partners! They have Potosí, a silver mountain! It's in demand in China right now, but--"

"We don't need silver either," Jacqueline says, starting to get aggravated. Why did he insist on pushing useless materials on them? Why not soldiers, or food, or resources?

"No silver!?" The king exclaims. He's starting to get desperate now, and she's sure all everyone else wants to do is to get rid of him.

"No. If you want to trade with us, you either trade food, resources or soldiers. Nothing more." Speaks up the king of Cobort. King Henry the Eight has become pale as parchment, and Jacqueline suppresses the urge to smile.

He blinks, eyes wide.

"Do you really have nothing of value?" Jacqueline asks.

The king's eyes darken. He looks at Jacqueline with hate uncharacteristic from a complete stranger and growls.

"I don't understand why I'm listening to a  _ girl _ ," he sneers. "Everyone knows a woman isn't fit to run a country, much less a child."

Jacqueline feels bile rise in her throat, but it's not out of fear. Everyone at the table flinches at the sudden drop of temperature, just high enough as to not frost the room, and all heads turn to her with surprise and shock, awaiting her reaction. King Henry the Eight does not flinch, and she feels anger at the display of brazen confusion instead of fear.

The Vikings at the back of the room stand suddenly. The guards behind king Henry point their staffs at them, but they pay them no mind.

"We apologize for his behalf, yer majesty, please--"

"You will not insult me, King Henry." She says with narrowed eyes, instinctually holding her head up higher. The king shivers, but he looks anything but quelled.

"Why not? A child ruling a kingdom? By God, how could it still be standing? Let me guess, you're an orphan, aren't you? Poor king and queen got killed in some accident, and now their inexperienced daughter is left to take the mantle, a little  _ girl--" _

An arrow finds itself embedded in his ivory seat. The Greenwich guards are pointing their staffs at queen Merida, and both are reaching for their swords. 

Jacqueline finds herself in more of a pinch than she'd like to admit. There's a numb kind of rage flowing in her veins right now, the cold, icy kind that has a better place amongst her cool blood.

She stands. Everyone is silenced.

_ Don't feel. _ She tells herself. 

Surely, it's what her mother would say.

"By my royal decree," she starts, voice boiling hot, "Arendelle is not to trade with the kingdom of Greenwich. There will be no contact, no trade, and no allyship." She says, voice cold now, calming her mood slightly and just enough to mask her anger. King Henry the eight quiet now, staring at her with utter bafflement. Jacqueline decides she needs to leave the room. They didn't have the resources for another war right now.

"Wait!" King Henry barks at her, angry.

She. Does. Not. Care.

Her guards follow her out. No one else calls out to her, and the doors shut loudly. 

"Jeoff, tell Kai we will be staying for two more days. He might as well get to enjoy this trip before we leave."

"Of course, my queen." He says, shivering slightly. His voice is, however, as dutiful as always. He hardly looks afraid of her, too.

She sighs. Quiet, she goes to her usual room whenever she visits. It is quiet and untouched. There, she frosts every cupboard and shelf all over again, releasing her pent up power little by little. She doesn't feel like coughing blood today.

Her guards stand guard outside her door while she sleeps. It's peaceful.

\---

There's a rumor going around that Pitch had returned.

Queen Rapunzel doesn't pay attention to it, of course. She's a strong leader to her people, and for the sake of her kingdom, she won't scare easily. Rapunzel had seen the defeat of Pitch herself, the sacrifice of her beloved companion and fellow royal swallowed by the demands of a cruel fate. It had been enough to lock him away for more than a hundred years, she was sure of it.

See, there were many things she wished she could change back then. They had all been in over their heads, had made too many mistakes. They'd failed at killing him, but at least they were able to seal him away, at the price of a willing sacrifice, yeah, but… it's what she would have wanted. 

She is confident in her belief that Pitch is gone.

Yet, when she goes to the castle library to collect some more books from it's full, papered shelves, she finds black dusting on the floor and physically feels her heart drop.

She follows it, the black trail of dark powder on the cold tile floor. She turns corridors and goes through rows of perfectly lined covers, past the small potted plants that soak in the sunlight offered by the glass panels on the library ceiling. She doesn't even consider calling the guards, too enraptured in following the dark fragments. It leads her to a girl with blonde hair, asleep with her head pillowed by a thick paperback. The sand stops, and Rapunzel struggles to keep breathing.

Behind the girl, a boy with equally blonde hair snores, resting in the seat beside her. They're peaceful.

"Your m-majesty--" Someone says behind her. She turns, and the librarian is there, face fearful and lip trembling.

"We can't get them o-out." The thin woman says, softly. Her hands are wrung, and she looks stricken.

Rapunzel reaches a hand for her children.

Silent, glowing glass meets her skin instead.

\---

Everyone panics.

A call is arranged immediately through wizard intervention to her old companions, and they all answer instantly. The faces of Princess Anna, Prince Kristoff, Queen Merida, Chief Hiccup and his wife Astrid are staring back at her from the swirls of purple smoke, all connected to a single caster. 

"My kids are trapped in a force field and I don't know what to do!" She immediately starts, voice frantic. Eugene lets out a breath from next to her, his arm around her shoulders. He'd frozen when he'd seen the state of his children once he'd arrived, watching them sleep so peacefully in such a stressful situation.

"My kids too! They're stuck in some shield of sorts, an' no matter what arrow I shoot, the stupid thing won't budge!" Queen Merida bites out, voice angry and frustrated. 

Rapunzel takes in a heavy breath when everyone else nods, all as equally distressed as one another.

"We were discussing strategy arrangements when my oldest just... dropped. When I tried to check if he was all right, there was… there was a field, of sorts, too." Astrid says somberly, a quiet fury in her voice.

"Pitch is back," Says Anna, voice breaking. "Isn't he?"

The flinching faces of everyone speak volumes.

"We can't just assume, Anna," Kristoff says gently, and the red-haired princess shakes her head.

"There was black sand everywhere. If it's not him, then it's a very dedicated copycat…" Anna says, devastated. Her shoulders shake and she hides her face behind her hands.

"But, no, he can't… when made sure…" Eugene mutters. Rapunzel's face has begun forming a heavy grimace, hands trembling from an imaginary cold, and her shoulder burns with a painful reminder. Was their sacrifice for nothing? He can't have come back so soon, they gave up so much, _too_ _much_...

"He's going after our children. We have to find a way to stop him." Astrid says from her window. Hiccup nods beside her. They're also wary, but Astrid isn't the type to fall apart in front of others. She places a hand in her husband's shoulder and hardens her face.

"Merida, is that witch we met with last time still alive?" Hiccup asks. His face is slowly starting to collect itself.

"Aye, 'course she is. Nothing can kill that beast of a woman." Merida says hotly.

"See if she can tell us anything. She's always had a gift for telling people's fates." Astrid nods.

The red-haired queen nods, determination on her face. Just then, however, they hear the sound of glass breaking coming from Anna's window. They all turn to her and stare, silent questions in their eyes.

"Jacqueline. She's been trying to get out for hours." Anna says, looking behind her, and she sounds like she's on the verge of a sob.

"Tell her not to waste her power. She might… she might need it later." Hiccup mumbles, solemn. Anna's face stutters, frustration and fear building.

"I tried. She's just like her mother, never listens to me…" she's openly crying now.

"Anna," Rapunzel says gently. "We're going to figure this out, okay?"

Anna nods, but she doesn't look comforted. 

\---

Jacqueline grows up with stories of her mother.

The tales of queen Elsa are widespread, and she definitely wasn't the only child that was lulled to sleep by them. She was a reverent figure of sorts for the people of Arendelle, praised highly everywhere Jacqueline went, and her name was often spoken in prayers, her legacy permeating every home in her cozy country. Jacqueline, like every other child, is fascinated by them, eyes gleaming when she hears them spoken every night as her aunt Anna tucks her in for bed.

But slowly, however, she begins to see the quieter, more impactful effect of her mother's death. There's a painting in the palace catacombs depicting her mother, standing regal and tall in front of her throne, with her sister, princess Anna. They're both smiling wide, wider than she's ever seen everyone smile, although Elsa's is more withdrawn from her sisters. And that's her first clue.

Jacqueline has never seen her aunt smile so wide in her life, has never seen her face devoid of stress lines and wrinkles. Her hair is red, a vibrant crimson orange, no trace of white anywhere in the loose, braided strands, and her hands are holding onto Elsa's, who had her own hands entertained in front of her in a negotiative gesture.

And soon, she starts to hear them. Whispers of solemn resignation from the maids that tend to her hair, the tightly drawn eyes of her head seamstress whenever the quiet woman looks at Jacqueline and her cousin, the gardeners tense smiles whenever the man talks to her aunt, the cooks shivering fingers when Jacqueline sneaks into the kitchen looking for the kingdoms fine, imported dark chocolate, having had inherited her mother's love of the treat.

Jacqueline sees her future citizens as they work and labor behind walls and threadbare disguises, and feels the tension brewing.

Queen Elsa was gone. It had been years, but the people still mourned, and Queen Anna wasn't enough to quell the fires of sorrow. She had so far, in fact, made things worse. The woman was hardly diplomatic, the people claimed and had no mind for strategy. There were rumors of a war that would strike them down, and no one had hope that Queen Anna would help them.

So slowly, the stories of Elsa of Arendelle, the stories of the Snow Queen… start to fade away.

And a deep resentment begins to fester.

\---

It is decided that the children of the Alliance are to be rounded together at Arendelle. None of them have kingdom's to rule except Jacqueline, and she's thankful for the small mercy awarded to her; that she won't have to leave her kingdom. The small country holds her duty, and the endless paperwork is her only escape from the deep, chilling loneliness she feels.

The excuse is simple: the children would be rounded together and sent to live in Arendelle's castle under the guise of an internship, as well as showing the union of their various kingdoms. They were to spend an indefinite amount of time there, learning how to run the Alliance together, and would be visited from time to time by their parents. That way, if an attack was staged against the children of the big five, they would have each other to protect themselves. They were all to begin training in self-defense and in any abilities they might possess.

Jacqueline had been more than excited. She'd been secretly ecstatic at the news, happy at the prospect of making friends. 

Katelynn had other plans. As soon as the other kids had arrived, they'd been whisked away by her cousin, and when they'd returned, they'd wanted nothing to do with her.

Eventually, she lets her dreams of friends die with her heart.

\---

Cronan knows of a legend, a story told to him by the quiet fairies that would visit him at night. 

It's about a girl who loved her hair and braided it every day in a grand do, plaiting the strands every morning and combing them away every night. She would wash it every afternoon, and set it to dry in a lukewarm, but cool place in her home. Every two weeks, she trimmed it to take care of it's ends.

Then one day, a traveler came up to her and begged to cut her long, silken hair. He'd said the only way to save his village was to take her hair to the demon that haunted it, as it would only accept one's greatest treasure, and only then would his people be free. She had stared down at him with inquisitive eyes and had clutched her blond hair tightly.

Using the rusty scissors she'd hidden under her bed, she cut every strand off her head one by one and tied a red ribbon around it. Handing it off to the traveler, she'd told him "If my hair can save you, then let me cut it free, for such truths are not meant to be taken by greed."

The traveler had gone off, and the girl had closed her door, never to open it again. The flowers that had once been woven into her braids cried and said "Beautiful girl, why do you hide?"

"I have no more gifts to offer, and no traveler that wanders these roads should have to suffer the pain of my refusal." And so the girl had closed her windows and prepared to live the rest of her life in isolation.

But then one day, one year after, she woke up to look at herself in her mirror and gasped. Her hair had grown back, reaching her shoulder blades, and while it was not as long as before, it was still as shiny and soft, and as beautiful.

Cronan thought that maybe that's how Jacqueline was. Thinking herself to have no more gifts to offer those around her, and hiding away in her palace because of it.

Right now, they were walking quietly to a meeting. Jacqueline was as stiff as always, walking with her spine ramrod straight, and her hands were folded around each other, like always. Her expression was blank.

Cronan had decided to tag along out of curiosity. Jacqueline had been accepting of his presence, but she warned him that the board of advisors might ask him to leave. She said that she would defend him if she needed to, so he didn't need to worry, but to also make sure to hide his surprise. It was unwise to show weakness to power-hungry politicians. 

But see, Cronan he'd taken to thinking the last few weeks. It was no secret that Queen Jacqueline was a good ruler to her people, highly understanding and patient, yet her demeanor had been permanently cold for the entire time he'd known of her. He'd understood it, kind of, once he'd become aware enough to be able to, that he might be seen as a threat and untrustworthy, but if that was the case, why had she gone through such lengths to restore his soul? It wasn't anywhere near complete, but every shard gave him back a little bit more lucidity when returned to its place, and every single one had been given to him by the Queen herself. It made him think a lot, but something told him that he wasn't yet whole enough to understand the entirety of it. Right now, he could only form a few sentences at a time, and his trail of thought was equivalent to a match; it burned bright for a few seconds, thoughts rushing all at once, then extinguished, and began a new train if thought, relighting match after match in an endless cycle. This…

This was probably the most time he'd been able to hold a trail in his head.

"Jac." He says once they stop, directly in front of the doorway of the meeting room. Jacqueline twitches. Out if anyone he's ever heard call her that, he's the only one she'd accepted the nickname from. 

"Yes, Cronan?" She says, cold as ever. He grins, and the thought is already slipping away, but he knows that there had been an action he'd wanted to do, something to reassure her.

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and gives her what he thinks they call a hug? Jacqueline doesn't return it. She's gone stiff, and Cronan can't think hard enough to notice. He gives her a hug for a few seconds, then let's go. He grins at her again, then turns around to walk back to his room. He wants to play with that rainbow cube again, the one Hammer gave him. His sparse moment of lucidity is gone.

He absentmindedly thinks that Queen Jacqueline is very nice, because she didn't freeze him for something he just did. What it was, he doesn't remember.

\---

The time machine is giant, made of tungsten on the inside and Titanium alloy on the outside. It has two slots, just big enough to fit one of the more buff Vikings, and it's been pushed against a wall.

Hammer and their newer ally Hiro grin and her from in front of the giant contraption. Jacqueline can't deny the fact that she's impressed.

"You finished it." She says, blinking up at the wiring holding the thing together.

Both of them nod, beaming. Both are covered in oil stains, and look absolutely exhausted, so much so that she has half a mind to put a stop to the meeting now and continue it tomorrow. But the board has grown impatient, and this is probably not the first time the two of them have stayed up late to finish a project.

She checks anyway, however. Once she's done running her eyes on the machine, she turns back to them and raises a thin, blonde eyebrow.

"How long have you been awake?" She asks.

They both freeze, then wear identical sheepish smiles. She sighs. Katelynn gives a growl of disappointment behind her, then strides forwards and catches both boys but the ears.

"Are you guys stupid!? You have to sleep!" She shouts at them. The two boys start laughing nervously, and Katelynn begins to drag them down back into the hallways of the castle, presumably to their rooms. Jacqueline sighs.

"We can finish this meeting tomorrow. Adjourned." She says, and the rest of their group grumble bad file out of the tiny room, rubbing their eyes and looking at the floor longingly. She couldn't blame them, Hammer and Hiro had woken them up all at the same time in their excitement, and everyone was exhausted. Including Jacqueline, unfortunately.

And her powers.

She felt an ache in her bones as the magic under her skin thrummed, just waiting to be released. Jacqueline ignored it. Papers needed signing, after all, and this was not her first sleepless night.

Instead of going to her quarters, she took the path to her office. Her steps were slow and dutiful, and she made plans to change into something more proper than the blue silk pajamas she was wearing. They were comfortable, but unbefitting. She would get a maid to bring her something to wear.

A thump caught her attention behind her. She stopped.

"Cronan, I didn't expect to see you awake at such an early hour." She says.

A few seconds pass, and she makes a few icicles with her magic, using their glow to illuminate the area around her. Sure enough, when she turns around, she sees Cronan hiding in the corner, eyes wide. He's half into a Shadow, peeking out of one on the far side of the wall.

He cautiously walks out of the shadow and stared at her for a moment, black hair flat on his head and covering his scarred eye. As if looking for something to do, he waves.

Jacqueline decides to humor him, and waves back.

"Office?" He says quietly. He's begun retaining language, which is good. A single word is better than no words at all.

She nods, then turns back to the hallway. Her office was at the very end of it, in a refurbished guest room. It's cozy, and has many books.

A wall of black sand comes up in front of her to stop her. She freezes.

When she turns, Cronan is looking at her with pleading eyes. 

"Sleep." He begins to insist, tone urgent. She stammers.

"Y-you-- since when can you use sand?" She says in a poor attempt at an indifferent)llp voice. The wall still doesn't fall, and it reaches the ceiling. There's no way she's getting past it without her magic.

"Sleep." Cronan says more firmly. He stomps his foot angrily and flares his nostrils, golden eyes glowing in the dark. Jacqu swallows.

There's silence. Then, the queen reaches out to the wall of black sand, fingers outstretched, and lets her magic go.

The wall  _ shatters. _

She ignores the squawk behind her and makes her way forwards and back in the route to her office. She hears footsteps coming closer.

"Sleep!" Cronan insists, catching up to her. He looks frantic, eyes wide and panicked.

She stops, and in turn so does he, and they watch each other for a long moment. Jacqueline realizes that the exhaustion she feels reaches her bones. She is tired.

She cannot sleep. There is work to be done.

"I cannot rest yet, but if it will make you feel better, you can keep me company in my office." She attempts to compromise.

Cronan blinks, and his fingers let go of her arm. He seems to think it over.

"There is a couch there, if you become sleepy."

He looks at her closely for a moment, considering, then smiles, and nods once. He reaches out to grasp her arm. She doesn't push him away.

"Alright then. Let's go."

He does end up falling asleep on the couch. In all fairness, Jacqueline falls asleep face first into the big pile of papers on her desk, too, and neither of them have the heart to laugh at each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Five years without consuming Frozen Tangled Dragons content really puts perspective on a few things, huh?
> 
> Ground rules: No Jelsa, (you can pry platonic, sibling Jack and Elsa out of my cold, dead hands) and mostly platonic relationships. This is mostly me pissed off that there isn't more platonic content between Jack and Elsa on this site. Yes, there will be a prequel and an official story. These are mostly bits and pieces of the main timeline that hasn't been listed yet, so look forward to that I guess?
> 
> On other topics, the main character are OC's. Mostly. There will be time shenanigans, too.
> 
> Enjoy, I guess!


End file.
